


Neverland

by seldomabsent



Category: Far Cry 5, Original Work, Pan (2015)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blood and Injury, Crack, F/M, Panic Attacks, This is, This is just crack, neverland au, still some warnings, thalassophobia, this is pure crack from my friend and me, you won't probably get it if you don't read liza's story or just ain't familiar with fc5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27883306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seldomabsent/pseuds/seldomabsent
Summary: After being kidnapped twice in the same night, Liza got a serious wonder over her mind state as she sees a familiar face in a world seemingly coming out of a book.
Relationships: Liza Evans/Adam Roberts, Liza Evans/James Hook





	Neverland

**Author's Note:**

> this is pure crack. good luck if you read this and aren't my friend who this is for, love you all the same!

Liza rarely had the chance to have a goodnight of sleep. Between the long shifts at the hospital and now in the holy war, the constant fear of being attacked, even in the heart of her own home - it was complicated to relax. Yet, as she fell down on her couch, the cushion sinking under the force, she felt content and ready to turn off for the night. 

Her messy hair was spread around her head and the itchy feeling of her bra still bothered her but the pure relief of finally being laid down was too heavenly to dare trying to move. Even in the tight jeans and sweaty shirt, her legs were suddenly light after hours of walking, running and pacing - her arms felt numb after the constant fight - her head nuzzling perfectly against the big fluffy couch’s arm. It was as perfect as it could be.. Until the burst of the kitchen’s window disturbed the peaceful silence. 

She jolted on her side, emerging from her half-sleeping state only to frown. The kitchen window facing her was indeed open but no one was to be seen. She blinked a few times, wondering if the exhaustion was starting to play tricks on her, if she perhaps already opened herself the window. 

Waiting for a moment, she eventually laid back down, deciding everything was fine - but by the next second, nothing was. A pair of hands grabbed her ankles, pulling her down the couch violently - her head hitting the floor hard enough to prevent her from fighting back. It didn’t last long, her legs kicking and hands slapping whatever was pulling her by her ankles. The damn cultists, she thought at first, the maniac sent them once more, they might even succeed! She escaped last time, will she be lucky enough to do it again? She wondered briefly before shaking her head. 

She couldn’t panic, not now - especially not now.

Giving one last hard kick, she felt glorious to hear a nose breaking.

Turning on her belly, she crawled toward her bag - hoping to get her pepper spray or the bat next to it - but she didn’t get the time to even reach toward it as the hands once more grabbed her limbes, going as far as tying them up. She tried to hold on on something, anything, her nails digging into the wooden floor but the rope was quick to prevent her from moving with ease - and much more efficient at making her slip over the whole living room and kitchen. The pull on her legs to pass her through the window hurt, her back and head hitting the counter and window frame. She cursed loudly each time, the stinging pain burning her but all she got back was sickening laughs.

It was it, she was going to get trapped back there again. No, no, she couldn’t handle another time there- Her breathing was heavy as panic built up in her, yet she tried to keep her heart beats steady. She forced herself to rationalize. This couldn’t be the cultists, her mind resonated, they wouldn’t be this stupid, this many and- Her mind stopped to process all together as as she fell on the grass.

The man who got her was dressed up as what would be a really bad halloween pirate costume, his bloody nose bleeding on his blouse and reddening his disturbing teeth-smile but what shocked her the most was the ship behind him. Rectification- A flying ship. The blank of shock quickly let chaos live in her thoughts. Where did gravity go? What was happening? Did Larry mess once more with his radioactive stolen items? Millions of questions flew through her mind but all she could manage to say only came as a whispered: “What the fuck?”.

The crew joining the busted-nose man all laughed knowingly, clearly enjoying her confusion and fear. The man creeping on her side wasn’t particularly quick but as she took in the old wood, rusted metal and good four meters between the bottom of it and the ground, she didn’t watch out and thus, got hit on the side of the head - knocking her out effectively.

It couldn’t have been long when she regained consciousness, she guessed as she blinked. The still warm sensation in her hair and side of the face was proof enough.

Moving with difficulty, she stiffed the pain away, cursing at the massive headache she was having. Her finger brushed over the warmth, making her grimace at the deep crimson coloring her fingers. Looking down on her hand, she scoffed as she finally noticed the thick rope now preventing her wrists to move as well as her legs. Things getting clearer, she inhaled deeply to repress another swearing. From the dark fog surrounding her, she could distinguish she was in the hold of the ship. Was it still the same? She guessed by the same rusted metal, old planks and it was. 

Lifting her hands to fight the rope for a second, she hissed as it made her lift her legs as well. Great. She was tied up and handicapited. How will she escape like this? She groaned and stared at the red forming bruises it made on her skin. She took a deep breath, guessing the pirates-wanna-be did a good job of catching her. Now, she just wonder why the hell her and where were they? She couldn’t feel any movement else than a smooth heading up. As if.. She was in an elevator. She frowned. No, it wasn’t physically possible, it was enough weirdness for one night for sure.

Forcing herself on her feet, she cursed at the rope mechanism preventing her movements and forcing them to cooperate - her feet movement forcing her wrist down. She wouldn’t go far but she didn’t need to. It seemed fate had a fun humor as she hardly crawled the stairs up only to reach the main deck and gasp as the ship stopped mid-air in the sky. In the sky. 

Stars surrounded the ships. The sudden but soft stop of the ship left her floating for a second, helping her out of the stairs and onto the desk’s floor. She felt as if she was flying. The air was cold but enjoyable on her warm skin. To see the empty space and deafening silence - it was magical and terrifying at once. She eyed her feet with pure awe as she jumped, only to slow down as if time slowed with her fall, before they touched once more the darken wood. 

It took her a minute for her to realise she wasn’t indeed sleeping, nor that it was part of some hallucinations made by her wound. The scary crew enjoyed putting her back in place, slamming her on a near-by bench, maybe scared she’ll try to take off and she felt the breath getting knocked out of her chest. The annoyance cracked through her confused state but as she fully understood she had been kidnapped, not by cultists from a stupid holy war but by old school pirates in a flying ship now seemingly in the middle of space - her idea to spit on the bloody-man’s face seemed unwise. For what? She clearly wasn’t aware of what was going on and she didn’t want to fight unless she knew it was guaranteed to grant an escape.

“Get down.” He roughly said to her, pushing down on her shoulder to maintain her on the sit. A few men started shouting, attracting her curiosity. The man touching her gave her almost enough creeps not to notice the ship starting to fall back down. But she did, and as he was too busy eyeing her, she gripped tight of the bench’s edge. “You’re precious cargo-”

“Incoming!” A loud scream finally attracted the man’s attention and Liza pushed her hands forward, lifting her leg in one swift kick between his legs - barely staying to watch him fall and run off toward the head of the ship. As she reached the edge, she hold on on the bowsprit - gasping for air. Adrenaline and fear were being a bad combo in her exausted veins but as the fall kept getting faster much to her dismay, her eyes widen at the quick shadow flying toward her. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me-” She managed to get down and hide before the loud banging blew a part of the ship, making her ears ring. Looking up, she caught a glance of the ship circling the one she’s falling on. It passed by quickly, but the bright letters “Jolly Roger” shining on the back confused Liza even more. Were there rednecks in this world too, pirates who needed to customize their own ship for recognisance and attention? What kind of world had she gotten herself into? Or rather, forced into?

The whole ship shook, making her lose balance and fall on her side and soon, the whole structure was turning on the left. It was panicked at the heights that Liza started sliding on the floor, catching the first tied rope she saw. The restriction from her limbs prevented her any other chances for her to save herself. She could push a bit her feet on the floor for balance but the socks she wore made the whole mess more sloppy and soon, it wouldn’t be enough. From her crouched form due to her own bindings and the vertical turn of the ship, she wouldn’t last long. Even if it held on, the fall would still take her. 

She whimpered, annoyed and a bit terrified. 

She never feared death, the old friend being too familiar for her, but the thought of never seeing her family again pained her greatly. And as the rope started to slip out of her hands, the ship turning more and more and her old shoes slipping by the angle of the floor - she felt lost. The cord was burning her skin, cutting into it from her desperate tightened grip. The deck finally on it’s side, the comfort of all the screams from the surrounding crew members disappearing for an unsettling silence didn’t last long. And with them, any hopes fell pushed by the crack of the rope.

Her heart skipped a beat, and down, she slided on the upright deck.

The fall was quick, but the hit on the wooden railing made her gasped in pain of a broken rib or two - her hands still clinging to hold onto the bar. The turn of the ship pushed her closer and closer to the void, her fingers losing their grip.. She couldn’t see any cities or form of her world, only clouds closing in too fast for her liking, yet she could imagine that whatever world was under, she wouldn't make it. She probably let a shaken scream pass her lips as she finally was pushed over and fell in the white fog. As she flew down, she couldn't feel herself breathe or even think. All she could understand aside from the absurdity of the situation and realisation that death was right around the corner. After many teasings, it never felt closer that in this instant. Was she scared? Was she relieved? Was she accepting?

She just let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

Yet it wasn’t her time, destiny decided. The non-stop terrific events didn’t seem to want to stop either. An arm tightly grabbed onto her waist, slamming her against their chest and with a loud stomp of boots, she was greeted with a steady heaven to rely on. Her hands grabbed onto the stranger’s shirt, closing her eyes deeply as the wind pushed her hair behind her hair and only stopping as the red curls fell back on her face. 

The windy flow was followed with a soft water sliding sound and then, silence warmed her. Cheers forced her eyes to open - and so, she discovered this whole new crew. Shaking, she turned around. 

The Jolly Roger was her new ride, and gracefully leading into an unknown sea.

Sadly, the poor self-control and calm she collected was dragged down with her mental breakdown, her body giving in and making her fall to the ground. The blurry sight of the dark night sky above her and the shadow of a man she thought she recognized were the last things she saw before the exhaustion, fear and panic made her pass out.

When she woke up, she was laid on a bed. It was comfortable, and for a second she felt at home. But the smell of sea, dirt and sweat quickly prompted her on her feet. She was reassured to be able to walk freely but the rope of her hands hadn’t moved. Staring at the large turning-violet marks on her ankles, she felt the throwback of the last events and fell down back on the bed to take a deep breath. She couldn’t let herself panic like this. This didn't help one bit. Whatever world this was, wherever she could be, whoever they, outside, were- She still wasn’t in control. She clearly was the subject of it. She had to learn - she had to be smart about it.

Breathing and after calming down, she opened her eyes.

She was in some sort of room, a cabin by the looks of it - a bull’s-eye on her right reminding her of the very situation she was in. She eyed the slow waves outside, before a shiver passing through her forced her stare away. Turning back to the room, she passed her gaze over the cozy area. The disorganised desk, the mess of random items, the weird treasures hanging on every wall and every shelf, maps and coordinates.. and eventually, a golden framed door. She looked at it for a long time before finding the courage to stand up and walk toward it.

The walk was difficult enough with the shake of the tide and the ache of her legs but not as difficult as adjusting to the sudden light once on the deck. She was overwhelmed by the number of heads turning towards her, but the loud noise coming from right over her head stopped every fight she could have tried to start. The loud boots sounded familiar of the ones who watched over her the night before. It was intimidating, hard and closing in.

Soon, she could see a boot getting down the stairs on her left. The other, and then the whole leg. She was scared at the bloodied shirt the, obviously, captain wore but nothing prepared her for the shock of her life. As the man finally came fully into view, closing on her like an animal. Through the hard tired traits of his face to the deep breath-taking blue of his eyes, Liza choked as the man stopped in front of her. He looked exactly like the last time she saw him, past for the dark locks she loved so much now dirtied in an almost blonde shade. She barely straightened herself to stand higher and close her hand to his cheek.

“Adam?” The name barely left in a whisper.

And for a second, he seemed to look at her, see her, just like he used to - but a deep frown and rough step forward made her jolt back.

“I don’t know who ye think ye’re talking too, Miss, but ye’re wrong.” He spitted, pushing past her with a knock of his shoulder and looking over the horizon. He looked annoyed, thinking.. Was he searching for something? Either way, whatever shock or confusion Liza might have been in, the harsh response did the trick to shake her up a little. No matter who this guy was, he wasn’t for sure the man she was deeply in love with. In fact, he just might be the most rudest person she ever met, past John. As he turned back to face her and to probably start a very long and very annoying speech - she pushed the man daring to lay a hand on her. 

“Fuck off!” Her voice shouted loud enough to attract the few pirates not already looking at the scene. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

The man gasped, looking at his captain for help but the nod Adam’s twin gave him wasn’t a smart decision. 

Wisdom was tried to retrieved moments ago were pushed once more into the water and the fight for survival ran back into her veins.

As the idiot retried to get a hold of her, her elbow met with his ribs with crying accuracy. The breath knocked out of him, she fell on her back, sliding between his legs before kicking his back and sending him flying to the captain and his stupid friends. Hurrying back on her feet, she turned back to escape the new hands getting after her, grabbing the stairs’ trail with her tied hands and pushing herself up to jump over it. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she stood on the higher deck, her mind fuming for ideas on how to escape without having to jump off. Despair was starting to get to her as the whole crew started to surround her. She was doomed.

Smart decisions are not made under stress, she made a note to herself. They really aren’t, yet here she was again for the who-knew-how-many-times.

Stepping back against the helm, she felt cornered, wishing the crawl and just go home by some magic door.

She just wanted to go home, was that so selfish? She just wanted to see Adam, and the kids, and be safe and home with them. Who knew what was happening back in her reality. Were they okay? Were they hurt? Or did they too were throw into this weird dimension? She couldn’t knew. But she could fight to find out and find them back.

As her tearing eyes analyzed the situation, she felt back the animosity and danger she created. That was a short escape, but she could return the situation. Surely. Maybe. She just needed to get some power in balance. She had to rationalize. She had to have a voice against those creepers. She was the one captured in the end, twice! She had every rights to be pissed. Breating in, she slammed her two fists in the face of the nearest crew member, stealing his knife and jumping on the railing behind the helm. Standing with difficult balance on the thin wood, she supposed it was better than nothing. She cut the ropes, hissing as she cut herself in the process, she didn’t hesitate to send a warning look at the member closing in. He.. was disturbingly looking like Dylan, she thought. But she focused as he stepped back, making him lift his hands in surrender.

Loud footsteps grew back as the captain stepped back up. He looked truly annoyed but also a bit amused. Pointing the knife toward him, he snorted.

“What do ye think ye’re doing?” He asked, nonchalantly.

“Who are you?” She coldly ignored his question, finally regaining some composure. It seemed to surprise and even scared some.

“I could ask ye the same thing, miss. We pretty much saved ye, you’re not really being grateful here - hurting my men.” It was Liza’s turn to scoff now.

“I’m supposed to be thankful? Oh right, yeah, thanks for tying me up and probably trying to kill me - real generous!” 

The man simply laughed a bit, staring at her and silence filled the crew. They all looked between their captain and the weird dressed woman. Will there be a fight? A kill? A deal? No one knew, everyone were on edge.

“I’m James Hook, captain of the Jolly Roger. What are ye, miss? What do ye want?” The revelation of his name took Liza by surprise but she tightened her grip on the handle.

“.. Liza Evans.” She eventually answered. “I- I just want to go back home.” She simply requested, lowering the knife as the weight of the events crawl back on her shoulders. James looked at her for a second.

From her red messy hair to her dirty clothes and trembling posture, her tired blue eyes couldn’t lie. She was honest, not threathening or trying to gain a suppressed goal. She looked so vulnerable and alone, it almost made James feel bad for her. Not that he did, in any way or sort. He didn’t care. He didn’t, okay? Sighing, he looked down. Fuck, maybe he did a bit.

“Alright.” He eventually agreed, making Liza frowned.

“That’s it?” She wondered aloud, bewirdled. 

“That’s it.” He repeated, this time with a smirk. “But..”

She rolled her eyes. Of course they would be a condition.

“What do you want?” She interrupted him to get this over with.

He simply smiled for a minute, making Liza terribly annoyed about how much it reminded her of her own boyfriend’s smile before a singing shout called for his attention to the sky.

“But.. I need to catch him, first.” He pointed to the weird shadow flying closer and as it reached closed enough, Liza let go of the knife as it became clear enough.

“Care to give a helping hand, I just might get you from wherever ye’re from.” He explained, handing her his hand to step back down and accept his compromise.

A gasp let go of her and she almost fell from her balancing stand. There, in the sky was a boy. She fell back on the deck, his hand helping her not fall on the other side. It was a flying boy.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”


End file.
